


Between Angels and Insects

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Horror, Sustained Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy is warned by Castiel to protect his family from a new threat, leading the Novak family into a race against time itself, to flee across almost Apocalyptical landscapes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Angels and Insects

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Jimmy Big Bang 2012. Title comes from the song of the same name by Papa Roach.
> 
> Many thanks to both of my artists [miscellanium](http://miscellanium.livejournal.com) and [teniboha](http://teniboha.livejournal.com) for providing the artwork for my fic and for going where no artists have gone before. I'm very happy with all that I've received and I am squee-ful and full of squee right now. 
> 
> Art Masterpost: 
> 
> by miscellanium [found here!](http://writingidk.dreamwidth.org/10050.html)  
> by teniboha [found here](http://teniboha.livejournal.com/1540.html)

*~*~* 

The Heavenly choirs called to Castiel, as they did periodically, calling him home to confer on matters regarding Earth. Castiel, unwillingly, answered that call, not wishing to leave those in his charge when he felt his job with them was unfinished. The call of Heaven would not be denied or go unanswered, however, not even for the sake of the Winchester boys. 

He ensured the safety of his vessel, Jimmy Novak, depositing him back in the home the angel taken him from, before returning to the flock, the melodies of the Host, to hear news that would affect Jimmy and every single other celestial vessel across the Earth.

*~*~* 

After Jimmy Novak returned to Pontiac, he started to become aware of the disappearances. Every time he turned on the TV to watch the news, another family had completely disappeared off the map, as though they never had been. It was the same whenever he opened the newspaper, local headlines screaming from the page how another group of Pontiac locals had gone missing, presumably never to be seen again. 

Claire would often come home from school and state that another few children were unaccounted for during roll-call that morning, while people were gradually beginning to not show up either at Jimmy’s or Amelia’s place of work. He even heard tell of people upping and leaving unexpectedly, heading for unscheduled trips to the mountains, the desert or overseas. No reasons were ever given for these impromptu trips, leaving the people left behind to speculate and to form opinions in their absence. Every conceivable rumour from aliens from Mars beaming down to probe the missing people, to terrorists, to government experimentations, all the way through to war criminals escaping past and terrible crimes flew through the air, yet none had the resolution they deserved or desired. 

The streets began to slowly thin out, less people roamed the streets during the day, until the shops that permeated Pontiac began to resemble the proverbial ghost town. The local authorities began investigations, but they couldn’t pick up any tangible leads and the investigations continuously led nowhere. Jimmy privately thought that they weren’t trying hard enough, and soon, all news about their findings, or lack thereof, became non-existent. It was almost as though they’d given up hope of finding anyone.

And then the rain started; a perpetual downpour that soaked the streets without let-up, puddles forming on sidewalks and the pavements, until it seemed that Pontiac would go the same way as the famed, yet mythical, Atlantis. Jimmy hoped not, and was only slightly mollified when other places throughout Illinois started reporting the same problems - unexplained disappearances, an unexpected exodus of the locals, bad weather, flooding. No one seemed to have any answers for why it was even happening, yet to Jimmy, he felt as though he’d seen something similar before.

He tried calling Castiel, praying to him to come back from Heaven and just tell him what was going on. For a few days, his prayers went unanswered, until the end of the third week after it had all began, the angel deigned to reply ....

 

*~*~*~* 

The night forests rustled around the slim body of Jimmy, tree branches shifting slightly in the insistent gusts of wind, leaves bristling in ever increasing susurrations. Jimmy shivered, the chill of the wind and the crisp night air seeping into his very bones, or so it seemed to him right then. He shifted, toes of one bare foot shoring in amongst a pile of dead leaves with a loud crackle, noise overriding that of the wind momentarily.

The man frowned, suddenly wondering why he was barefoot in the middle of a forest. He chanced a look down, and saw that he was wearing nothing more than what he wore to bed usually; dark blue pyjama bottoms and a comfortably soft and worn grey t shirt. He wrapped slender arms around his equally slender frame, his shivering more pronounced now as a gust of wind licked up his body and lifted beneath the soft fabric of his t shirt, caressing his stomach and dipping into his navel. 

He shifted, hopping from foot to foot in hopes of regaining some of the feeling in his frozen toes, hopping onto something bristly and unforgiving within seconds. He cursed loudly and at great length, hopping along on one foot as he grabbed at his injured toes with one hastily thrown down hand. His fingers curled and flexed against the sole of his foot, searching grimly for splinters, yet nothing was there. Whatever he had stepped upon had stayed upon the ground somewhere behind him. 

He stumbled against an upraised tree root, toes tangled amongst the grasping, grabbing tendrils of ivy wrapped around the root itself. He fell, headlong into underbrush as yet unseen, which covered him, like an impromptu, natural blanket. Jimmy lay still, glad for the respite from the cold and the wind, as the leaves settled around him to cover him with natural warmth.

He sighed then, pillowing his head with one forearm, large blue eyes blinking at the trees around him. He started to take in individual trees and plants, none of which he actually recognised. He knew that he wasn’t at home. Nowhere in Pontiac looked anything like his current surroundings. 

He looked around, and wondered if he was alone. He thought that he was, yet he could feel eyes upon him, watching his every movement. For a brief instant, he thought that it was possibly Amelia, or Claire, hiding and watching, before he discounted that theory straight away. If it was either of them, he knew they would have shown themselves beforehand. His thoughts wandered instinctively to Castiel. 

As if his thoughts of Castiel had brought the angel forth from wherever he was hiding, Jimmy saw him approaching. Castiel, at first, was an indistinct, bright white light, grace soon pulling into a vaguely humanoid shape that was probably more for Jimmy's ease than for any real need on Castiel’s part. Jimmy knew that the angel had no form that would be recognizable to a human ordinarily; Castiel, instead, was a wavelength of celestial intent. A pair of bright blue eyes in amongst all the brightness stared down kindly at the man laying upon the ground, yet the angel didn’t immediately speak.

“Castiel,” Jimmy said, hoarsely, unable to call the angel Cas as easily as Dean had been able to. “What is this place?”

“Everywhere and nowhere,” the angel said, his voice melodic and soothing to Jimmy’s cold ears and frost ravaged senses.

Suddenly the man felt warmer, as though purely through hearing Castiel’s voice alone, he was warmed, and no longer felt the surrounding chill in the air. 

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Jimmy guessed, processing Castiel’s seemingly nonsensical statement. “None of this is real.” 

“That’s correct,” Castiel replied, kneeling down before Jimmy and laying one hand upon the man’s frozen cheek.

Even despite all that Jimmy had been through at the hands of Castiel, dragged across time and continents, shot, stabbed, thrown from the tops of high rise buildings, he still felt no animosity towards the angel. Every time Castiel had healed him, made sure no harm came to his earthly vessel and always returned Jimmy’s body the same way he had found it. Jimmy still leant into Castiel’s touch, surprised at the warmth despite the cold white light that shimmered and coalesced into a semblance of a human hand. Castiel had learnt much, Jimmy saw; now, Castiel knew that a human felt more comfortable talking to something in the shape of a human, instead of bright, formless white lights that did nothing bar inspire fear, not awe. 

“You’re beautiful,” Jimmy said, quietly, without meaning to. “I didn’t realize before.” 

Castiel remained silent, staring down non-judgementally towards the man laying at his knees, one hand still propped against Jimmy’s cheek. The angel was glad that Jimmy had at least stopped shivering now, basking in the warm presence of his Grace as it flowed and ebbed across Jimmy’s scantily clad body. He could feel that Jimmy took comfort from his closeness, and he bowed his head further towards the human. He dropped his hand to rest gently upon Jimmy’s shoulder, more for Jimmy’s continued comfort than his own need for contact.

“Why am I here?” Jimmy finally asked. “Why did you bring me here? There must be a reason.” 

“There is always a reason for everything we do,” Castiel conceded. “I am an agent of fate after all. I came here to warn you. You are not safe and neither is your family. Be prepared to run when the time comes. You don’t have much time left, James Novak.”

“What’s happening?” Jimmy asked, sitting bolt upright now and staring almost accusingly at the angel staring at him. “What does any of that mean?”

He found his gaze locked by the angel’s bright, jewel like eyes, glistening blue in a sea of white, bright light that engulfed most of his face. Even though he couldn’t see many of the features, still half-formed and lost to the light of the angel’s Grace, Jimmy could still see that Castiel was sad. 

“You will see, in time to come. It is enough that I have warned you. To tell you more would jeopardize you still further,” Castiel replied. “I will, however, reveal more when the time is right, when you are ready to hear it.” 

There was a silence then, as Jimmy processed Castiel’s words and waited for more. When more information wasn’t forthcoming, Jimmy sighed, and wondered why he had expected more in the first place.

“You’re not allowed to tell me more, are you?” Jimmy asked, sourly, his anger directed more towards Heaven rather than Castiel himself. “Even after all you’ve done for Heaven, you’re still not allowed.”

“I have no free will of my own,” Castiel replied, sadly. “I thought you of all people would understand that.”

“I do, but you can’t just tell me there’s some threat to my family and just leave it at that,” Jimmy retorted, angrily.

He felt himself wishing with everything that he was that the angel would be straight with him for once, instead of feeding him half-truths and meaningless platitudes that could mean anything and nothing. 

“To bring you here is enough, more than my existence is worth. I have risked everything I have worked for to bring you here, to tell you as much as I have. You should show me some respect, James,” Castiel said, melodious voice taking the edge off his tone. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me. More information will be forthcoming, when I am able to tell you it.” 

“I’m sorry, Castiel,” Jimmy replied, truly contrite for the first time since he reached the forest. “I understand that. I’m not angry at you, not really. My family’s at stake here. I need to know why they’re in danger and what from. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied, softly. “I still cannot tell you. Be prepared, Jimmy. Save yourself and your family. They’re depending on you to do the right thing and to protect them. Go to the ones that you must trust. I’m depending on you to remain alive. For them and for me.”

Jimmy said nothing to that, fully realizing the enormity of the situation at stake for him. Not only were Amelia and Claire looking to him for his protection, even though they didn’t quite know it yet, but Castiel was looking to him to stay alive. Jimmy had no doubt that Castiel could, and would, use another vessel if he had to, but by the mere fact that the angel had said he relied upon him, seemed to indicate that Castiel did not want another vessel for the time being. Jimmy tried to smile and raised one hand to cover Castiel’s bright and amorphous one, where it still lay upon his shoulder. 

“I promise that I’ll try my best,” he said, meeting Castiel’s liquid, ethereal eyes for the moment. 

“You will prevail. I have faith in you,” Castiel said, and it seemed to Jimmy then as though the angel was smiling. “I always have done.” 

“Where are you going to be? Won’t you be able to protect us?” Jimmy asked, suddenly.

“I will be there with you when I can. I will shield you as much as possible from harm, but my powers are needed elsewhere, for the moment, Jimmy,” Castiel told him. “I will be back, to collect you, but my Grace will be with you always.” 

Jimmy was about to say more to Castiel, but the angel prevented further words from spilling from his mouth by pressing the pads of two bright fingertips to his forehead, and sending the man tumbling through time and space, back to his own body, once more.

Jimmy awoke to his bedroom, eyes blind and staring as the familiar walls slowly came into focus around him. Amelia stirred beside him, mumbling a little incoherently as she fumbled her way from dreaming state into wakefulness once more. Jimmy scrubbed his fingers into his eyes, yawning as he did so, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain and assimilate the things that Castiel had told him, not that the angel had really said very much at all. 

“Jimmy? Are you alright?” Amelia finally managed, as she turned to face him groggily, frown marring the smooth skin of her forehead. 

“Yeah, Ames, I’m fine. Just had an odd dream, is all,” Jimmy replied, musingly, attempting a smile just for his wife.

Amelia mumbled something else, nodding sleepily at him, before she slipped back into her own dreams again. Jimmy watched her for a while, watched her sleeping face relaxed and uncaring. He swept one strand of hair from her forehead, tucking it behind one ear gently. He sighed and swung his legs from the bed, slowly, tired but needing a drink to ease his parched throat.

He padded from the room, onto the landing, pausing only once on his travels to look in on Claire. Like her mother, the girl was sleeping, hands curled protectively about her pillow while she slept. She looked innocent, untouched by the travails of life and Jimmy found himself wondering if she even remembered the time when Castiel had possessed her. In a way, Jimmy didn’t want to ask her, just in case she didn’t. Her young mind needn't be exposed to the vagaries of an alien, angelic mind. He could just about cope with the pain and the pressure and he was an adult. He sighed again, knowing it was better to leave her to her girlish fantasies, of ponies and whatever else young girls dreamed of these days. He sincerely hoped that it wasn’t Justin Bieber, however, barely suppressing a shudder at the thought. 

He turned and padded down the stairs to the kitchen, snapping on the overhead lights and squinting into the harshness of it. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the harshness, nerves flooded with too bright-light that seemed brighter and less forgiving than Castiel’s Grace had ever been. When his vision adjusted and cleared to take in the room, he wished then that he hadn’t wanted a drink or at least had left the light off. 

Across the far wall of their otherwise pristine suburban kitchen were words daubed in what looked suspiciously like blood. The letters still looked tacky and fresh, as though whoever had put them there had not long done so. His gaze scanned across the letters, uneven as though the author was unused to writing, or at least in English, perhaps. 

The message read - WE’RE LOOKING FOR YOU AND ALL OTHERS LIKE YOU. WE WILL FIND YOU, ALL OF YOU.

Jimmy turned away, thinking back on Castiel’s words in his dream, barely choking back the sob that threatened to escape from his throat. His gaze turned to the ceiling and the unseen forms of his sleeping wife and child caught in sleep above him. 

“Castiel, help me,” he moaned, knowing that the angel would hear him, even if God couldn’t or wouldn’t. 

Right then, Jimmy had more faith and trust in the angel than the God that had created them both. His faith had started to wither some time ago, yet his belief in the angel was forever tangible. Somehow, he knew that Castiel had heard him, by the warm rush of emotion that washed through and over him, as though Castiel was acknowledging his plea for help and was making a promise of his own. It wasn’t a set-in-stone guarantee, but it was a tenuous one anyway. Castiel would do all he could to help them, while he was busy in Heaven and that was good enough for Jimmy. The rest was up to him, he knew. 

He set to work scrubbing the evidence of the message from the wall, deciding it was for the best if perhaps Amelia didn’t see the blood. It wasn’t just because of the mess upon the wall, it was also because it was evidence of someone managing to get into their house while they were effectively sleeping, endangering them all. Even though he promised himself he’d at least tell Amelia about it, he knew that she didn’t need to see it for herself. They had all been through so much in recent times, and that message only ramped up the fear factor. Someone was searching for them, wanted them enough to scare them into submission through leaving threatening messages upon their kitchen wall. Amelia could have no part of that, nor could Claire - especially Claire. 

Jimmy wondered then why the intruder hadn’t just taken him, if he was, indeed, who they were looking for, instead of scrawling nonsensical words upon the kitchen wall. Jimmy wondered if the presence of Castiel had shielded him from the intruder, hence the message left for him to see. He sighed, knowing that this was another mystery he probably wouldn’t have an answer to just yet, on top of the mysteries left behind by Castiel. 

Eventually the wall was clean and Jimmy felt more tired than he had ever been before. Still, he made himself a mug of warm milk with a sprinkling of sugar and cinnamon, a favourite drink of his when he’d been small and unable to sleep. Even though he made it to his mom’s recipe, the hot milk still did not taste as good as hers had, infused with the love only a mother could give her child, and Jimmy only had that special fatherly love for Claire, never for himself. 

He was still there in the kitchen, finishing the dregs of his warm milk when Amelia padded into the kitchen, groggy yet sleepily curious as to where he was. He smiled at her as he washed the remainder of the milk from his used mug before placing it back within the cupboard that he’d gotten it from, the china wall of the mug plinking against another in the darkened depths of the cupboard. 

“Aren’t you coming back to bed?” Amelia asked, on the tail end of a yawn, as Jimmy stayed at the sink for long moments, eyes transfixed by what he’d thought had been movement outside.

The movement was there before it was gone, reminiscent of wings sliding effortlessly through the darkness, feathers dark and sinuous against the night sky. Jimmy’s first thought was that it was Castiel returned to him, and a cold knot of fear in his stomach laid that thought to rest immediately. He always knew when Castiel was coming back to him, warm embrace filling him up with celestial light before Castiel’s angelic form slammed home with the force of a torpedo inside him. He was always squashed deep down inside himself whenever Castiel ruled the roost of his body, and the thing outside with wings was not Castiel. Whatever it was, it wasn’t friendly. 

“Yeah, Ames, in a minute. Just needed some milk, is all,” Jimmy said, a little faintly, shaking himself in an attempt to yank himself back into the real world with his wife once more. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Amelia said, with another expansive yawn, before she turned to pad quietly from the room again.

Jimmy stared out of the kitchen window for a few minutes more, yet he did not see the movement outside again. After a while, he turned and followed his wife upstairs, thinking that it couldn’t be a coincidence to see that, after Castiel’s warning and the message daubed on their kitchen wall. 

He made a vow to himself as he settled himself down into bed, that he would make good on Castiel’s warning to leave. To ignore it would be folly, he thought. Telling his wife and daughter they needed to pack for an impromptu vacation in the morning sounded about right to him then. 

*~*~*~*

The following morning, Jimmy was up with the birds, or so it seemed to him. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, sending its rays up into the cloudless early morning sky. Jimmy could see, however storm clouds on the horizon, thick and menacing and seemingly gathering at greater speed than they should. He shuddered, despite the humidity that held sway over the house and the sweat that clung to his forehead and his back. His arms wrapped instinctively around his body, that body which had been rebuilt twice after Castiel had effectively been exploded in it. Jimmy remembered the pain, before and after and turned his thoughts immediately away, trying to school both his mind and his features into something more positive.

He knew that it wouldn’t do for either Amelia or Claire to see him so preoccupied or quite so distraught, even they knew a little of all he’d gone through in recent years. They didn’t know everything - even Jimmy didn’t know everything, as Castiel had kept him squashed down tight at some times rather than at others, resulting in large holes in his memory where he didn’t remember a thing. Something told him, however, that that was for the best. There must have been a reason that Castiel had kept a lid on some things and for that, Jimmy thanked the angel. Still, the man had told Amelia and Claire some things that had happened to him while he’d been harbouring the full consciousness of an angel inside him, just enough to keep their curiosity at bay and to tell them what it was really like to host an angel inside of one’s body. 

Jimmy turned his attention away from all too recent morbidity, to the view outside the window. The stormclouds were closer, more threatening, lightning clearly to be seen flickering upon the horizon to kiss the Earth with rapid wild-fire. To Jimmy, the sight of the storm did not bode well, although he didn’t quite know why. After all, to anyone else it was just a storm, perhaps. To him, however, in recent light of all that had happened to him while harbouring an angel and receiving a message in the night from the same angel, the storm seemed oddly prophetic, fitting somehow. 

He watched the storm drawing closer, before he turned at the sound of Amelia’s approach behind him. Her small feet were near silent, but the worried expression upon her face was something all too familiar to Jimmy. Unlike before when she’d thought him crazy and talking to invisible angels called Castiel, she was now knew when to heed Jimmy when he acted a little strangely. Becoming aware that the angel was all too real and being possessed by a demon herself for a while, put her in good stead for believing the strange and out of the ordinary.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” she asked, quietly, keeping her voice down instinctively, as though she knew to keep Claire as unaware as possible. 

“Something’s happening,” Jimmy admitted, reluctantly, head dipping slowly in an almost shamed nod. “I just don’t know what it is, yet.”

Amelia’s lips narrowed into a thin line at his words, as though that was the last thing she really wanted or needed, to hear, right then. Jimmy could hardly blame her for that. He sighed, thin shoulders heaving beneath his scant t shirt as she asked another question.

“How long have you known?” she asked, the look in her eyes telling him that she really needed to hear that, as though it really would make all the difference.

Perhaps it would, to her. 

“Since last night,” Jimmy replied, slowly. “Castiel came to me in a dream.”

“Castiel?” Amelia asked, sharply, although the relief was palpable in her eyes. “Seems like he just can’t stay away, huh?”

“He finds my body truly magnetic,” Jimmy replied, with a brave attempt at a leering smirk. 

Amelia’s eyebrows rose at that, before she nodded, a smile of her own touching her lips.

“I know where he’s coming from,” she said, slowly, making Jimmy smile properly in return, just as she knew it would. “What did he say?” 

“Not much. Just said we need to get the hell outta dodge, post haste, if we want to survive,” Jimmy said, with a shrug. 

“That’s it?” Amelia asked, in disbelief, when Jimmy didn’t immediately continue. 

“Yeah, believe it or not. Seems like he wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me any more than that,” Jimmy said, with a loud exhalation of frustrated breath through his nose. “He said he was risking a lot just through telling me as much as he did.”

“Retribution from Heaven?” Amelia asked, looking concerned for the first time.

“Yeah,” Jimmy replied, before falling silent once more.

“So now what? Do we pack up and leave?” Amelia asked, propping both hands on her slim hips, gaze slipping out the window to the car in the drive.

“Yeah,” Jimmy replied. “I don’t think we have any other choice.” 

“And go where?” Amelia asked the obvious, a question to which Jimmy had no ready answer.

Castiel hadn’t told him where to go and Jimmy himself had no clue.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he said, wincing at his own choice of words.

That brought a flash of memory then, of two brothers who’d used those same words to him many moons ago. He caught glimpses of them throughout residual memories left behind from Castiel, of Dean and Sam Winchester. He caught the tail-end of Castiel’s affinity for Dean, of how fond the angel was of the elder brother, if such base human emotions could be attributed to a celestial being, that was. 

“And what do I tell Claire?” Amelia was asking, unaware of Jimmy’s internal train of thought. 

“Tell her we’re going on a camping trip,” Jimmy said, as inspiration suddenly struck. “You know how much she loved those when she was younger.” 

Amelia smiled at that, a smile which Jimmy shared. Memories flooded his mind then of Claire, barely nine years old, clutching a teddy bear while wearing snowman-spotted pyjamas, standing sleepily at the mouth of an unzipped tent. She’d been watching horses gallop by, wild ones that meant no harm to her or her parents. Other memories rose unbidden, of making s’mores in the wilds of Utah, of pretending to camp out in a Chicago hotel once, tent discreetly erected for the benefit of Claire. That had met with childish giggles and glee, and Claire had spent the majority of the evening tucked in said tent, reading one of her many pony books beneath a flashlight, while Jimmy and Amelia had watched TV in the main room. 

“We’d best tell her after breakfast though. That’d give Claire a chance to fuel up. She needs it,” Jimmy said, with a sigh. 

Amelia couldn’t argue with that, despite the fact that the notion of the impromptu trip obviously worried her.

“A bit of normality will help,” she agreed, grimly, before she nodded. “Okay. You start the breakfast and I’ll throw some things together.”

“Just the essentials, Ames,” Jimmy called after her as she turned to leave the room.

“Always,” Amelia threw over her shoulder, and Jimmy could just about hear the wedded bliss of eyes being rolled at his expense.

He had to grin at that. Even without looking, he knew what Amelia was doing, even after spending a few years away from her, being towed every which way by an angel of the Lord. He rubbed his slender stomach, feeling the ache and burn of a celestial being inside him all over again. Even though it was his body suffering through sense memories, and not actually being assaulted by Castiel’s very presence within him, the sensations still hurt. 

He knew, that despite the pain and discomfort, he would do it all over again, for his family, for Castiel, for himself. After all, he was chosen, his blood was pure enough to withhold an angel descended from Heaven, blood magic that he’d passed down to Claire unwillingly. He knew that if it was a choice between taking Castiel inside himself again to spare Claire from going through it in his place, he would again, for her, for Amelia. Let Amelia have something to call her own in Jimmy’s absence. 

He turned when he heard movement upstairs, of feet shuffling against the carpet above with the passage of Amelia’s feet searching for essentials. He wondered just how many hundreds of bags Amelia would want to drag with them. His idea of essentials was far different than Amelia’s, as he’d discovered on plenty of camping trips in the past. He had to concede, however, that Amelia, little fusspot that she was, always invariably brought the right things, whereas if he’d been left in charge, he’d forget something stupidly simple like Claire’s hay fever tablets, or something. 

He pulled the frying pan from the cupboard, deciding a heavy meal would set them through the first few hours of the morning, setting them up in good stead for whatever may come. A growl of thunder outside heralded the first lashings of rain against the window, and the scattergun pellets of hail seemed to herald bad omens. Jimmy tried to ignore the weather as best as he could, yet it was hard when the storm didn’t seem to want to abate any time soon. Thick black clouds gathered and brewed overhead, turning the Novak household and the entire Pontiac neighbourhood they resided in a deep and inky black. He switched on the light, hoping the electricity would hold out long enough for him to cook the breakfast, as a second pair of footsteps joined Amelia’s upstairs.

Jimmy listened and heard Claire’s piping little voice and her mother’s more soothing tones, before Claire returned to her room. The distinct sound of a teenager’s suitcase hitting the floor indicated that Amelia had indeed told Claire something about an impromptu camping trip. 

As Jimmy listened carefully to the sounds of his wife and daughter making ready upstairs, he only hoped that he would be able to protect them from whatever was ahead of them. Through all of his ever mounting worry, however, he knew that Castiel would somehow watch over them, an agreement that was as fragile as the French Toast that Jimmy whipped together in expert quick time. He only hoped that the agreement wouldn’t be as easily burnt as French Toast could be if left unattended for long enough

*~*~* 

The storm was still lashing the streets of Pontiac, as Jimmy made the Novaks’ family station wagon roar into belching life. Even the wagon’s roar couldn’t drown out the sounds of the thunder as it crackled and boomed across the sky, trees bending everywhere they looked in the force of the wind whipping and whistling down the street.

Amelia’s hands were tight against her knees, knuckles bleeding white as she did so. Her lips were pressed together in a thin, nervous line, large blue eyes taking in the state of the world around them with almost a fearful dread. Her thoughts continuously strayed to the message that Jimmy had told her had been daubed upon their kitchen wall in the night, bright red in her imagination, even though she had not seen the words for herself. The thought that somehow, someone or something had managed to enter their house without unlocking the door first frightened her, as much as the fact that they could have been harmed frightened her. 

Only Jimmy’s reassurances that Castiel was looking after them prevented her from completely freaking out. For some reason, she trusted the angel she’d met only briefly when the angel had possessed Claire, before being transferred back into the body of Jimmy again, healing him from the gunshot wound that had rent his abdomen apart. She tried not to think of the reasons why he’d attained that gunshot wound, considering that it was the demon inside her that had perpetrated that act and not her, herself. She forced her mind back to thoughts of Castiel and of how his promise of protection encompassing Claire and herself too being oddly reassuring.

“It’s almost apocalyptical, isn’t it?” she asked Jimmy, gesturing outside even as he closed one large, warm hand over hers in an attempt to calm her down. 

Jimmy didn’t bother to correct her that the Winchesters had already diverted the Apocalypse from happening once; because he knew deep down inside himself that his wife was right. Just because the brothers had diverted it with the help of Castiel, didn’t mean it still couldn’t happen if the right group of angels decreed it so.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, honey,” Jimmy said, not outright denying it, yet trying for almost levity. 

Amelia wasn’t convinced, large-eyed gaze staring fixedly at the lowering thunderclouds overhead. The clouds looked thicker than they had before, more ominous and so much darker than they should have been.

“We’ll be fine, you’ll see,” Jimmy muttered an assurance, as he angled the station wagon into the street, that was, even now, beginning to flood. 

Great puddles of water pooled at the curbs, threatening to drown the tyres as the car sloshed through them. Jimmy wondered then just how much more the drains could take, and how much longer until the street flooded completely. He felt a little sad over their home potentially getting damaged through flooding, and he was silently thankful for the fact the insurance would cover a great portion of any losses incurred. 

Amelia muttered something beneath her breath at Jimmy’s last words, the tone of her voice a little disbelieving. Jimmy couldn’t blame her. They were running out of familiar surroundings, to who knew where, all on the instruction of a dream hopping angel. They didn’t even know who they were running from, or Jimmy corrected himself, more aptly, what. It rarely ever indicated a person whenever Castiel was involved, after all; it was always some kind of a monster or demon of some description.

“Where is everyone?” Amelia asked, gaze scanning the streets around them, as Jimmy navigated the large puddles now forming in the middle of the road, spreading across the cracked tarmac. “I mean, everyone that’s left.”

Jimmy, too lost in his own thoughts previously, was brought back into the present time through Amelia’s words and it was only then that he realized that his wife had a point. The streets were completely devoid of life. Despite the fact that a great portion of the neighbourhoods were still reported as missing, there still should have been someone on the streets, if only to hurry in from the rain. A frown crossed Jimmy’s previously unmarked forehead, and he cast a glance in the rear view mirror, where Claire was obviously listening in. He didn’t want to scare her unnecessarily, so he spoke to her before he answered Amelia's question.

“Why don’t you try listening to your iPod, baby?” he asked, with a brave attempt at a smile at her.

He cast a glance back at the road again, as Claire replied.

“Why can’t I hear what you’re saying?” she asked, with that child-like curiosity that she still had to grow out of.

Jimmy hoped that she never lost that innocence, that curiosity, that whatever trials and tribulations awaited them, that none of that would be ruined in his daughter. 

“It’s boring, Claire. Trust me, your music will be far better than anything we have to say,” Jimmy said, attempting for lightness, and hoping that he had his daughter fooled. 

“If you say so,” Claire replied, not sounding convinced. 

“We’ll tell you later if anything exciting comes up, okay?” Amelia rallied by saying.

She threw a smile at their daughter in the back and watched as Claire sighed and pulled her iPod from the depths of her coat pocket, where she’d hastily stuffed it earlier in the morning. Amelia continued watching as Claire powered up the device and stuffed the ear buds into her ears, scrolling through the menu mechanically until she found a track she wanted to listen to. Claire’s gaze transferred from the screen of the iPod to the vista outside, staring inwardly as she listened to her music, instead of watching the endless streets go by.

When Amelia was satisfied that Claire was well settled with her music, she transferred her own gaze to the streets outside, awash with rain that liberally assaulted already well soaked streets with a relentless downpour. Jimmy chose that moment to speak. 

“Perhaps those that are left are being sensible and are staying in out of the rain,” he posited, sounding more hopeful than knowledgeable right then.

Amelia hummed in agreement, although she didn’t sound entirely convinced. Jimmy knew what she was thinking; it was pretty unusual for the streets to be that silent, even in a downpour as rigorous as the one that battered against the station wagon in streaming waves. She thought again, that even without the current, weird depletion in local population, there should have been someone outside. 

Amelia fell silent, uncertain as to what to say next to her husband, slender hand cupping her chin as she leant forward to lean her elbow upon her thigh. Her eyes scanned the streets as they rolled damply past, but she saw not a sight nor heard a sound from anyone. It was almost as though they were alone in the world, safely cocooned in the confines of their station wagon, sins of the world washing away from them in a constant smattering of rain against metal.

The silence stretched on between them, until Jimmy flicked on the radio to mask some of the silence between them. It took a while for Jimmy to find a decent station that worked, and didn’t play endless streams of mindless pop crap that Jimmy couldn’t stand. Even though he sold ad time for a local radio station, it didn’t mean that he liked everything they played on it.

Eventually, he found a golden oldies station, leaving the radio playing a weirdly muted version of The Eagles’ “Hotel California” in the background. Amelia didn’t object to the music. Like Jimmy, she wasn’t overly keen on the mindless drones of the over-produced pop charts, preferring the raw nostalgia of classic rock, from when music actually meant something more than aspiring to high sales, or, more aptly in current times, high internet downloads. 

Jimmy was lost in his thoughts, wondering where to go, wondering whether turning on the radio was the best decision he‘d made all morning. Perhaps the Eagles’ song was played at the most fortuitous moment, and that they should head for California, despite the true connotations of the lyrics. He smiled ironically to himself, knowing that the location in the song could have been placed anywhere; really, the lyrics pertained to the excesses apparent in any town in America, not necessarily about California in and of itself. It didn’t matter, however; California was named, and it was as good a place to go as anywhere. He was about to tell Amelia where they were headed, when a sight outside made his words stutter and die in his throat.

For the briefest of moments, so brief, Jimmy wondered if he’d been right at all, he thought he saw a large, winged figure standing by the side of the road. Even though the rain was coming down in drowning sheets, making visibility poor, Jimmy knew what he’d seen. The figure was not unlike an angel, massive, beautiful, winged, ethereal. He blinked and the momentary vision was gone, before they’d even passed by the place where it had been standing. A brief flash of light shone brightly for the briefest of instants, before that, too, faded away. Jimmy wondered if the figure and the following flash of light had been a vision of something that was not there, induced by stress and by worry, of fear of the unknown facing them. 

He sighed, and tried to put the thing out of his mind, telling himself to mollify his jangled senses that it had been Castiel all along. Even though that thought didn’t ring true and he knew deep down that it wasn't his angel after all, that thought alone did wonders in settling his nerves. He also forgot about mentioning the idea to head for California, more determined to make it through the deluge in one piece, and more importantly alive.

Jimmy vowed to himself, as the fleeting idea to travel to the sunshine state evaporated, to properly decide where they were going when they had stopped and were clear of the rain and the storm surrounding them. 

 

*~*~*~*

Jimmy finally stopped the car somewhere deep in Peoria, after first passing the outskirts of El Paso. Unlike Pontiac, however, which seemed at best a ghost town, El Paso was a haven of activity for the most part. People walked in the rain, drove through the streets, frequented the shops and the local diners about town. It offered a sense of normality for the travelling Novaks, and Jimmy, for one, knew that it alleviated the sense of ill ease that had dogged him since hastily leaving home earlier that morning. 

Claire had long since fallen asleep in the back seat when they arrived at Peoria, lulled into dreaming by the long hours spent in the car with nothing to do except listen to music and read intermittently. They had stopped a few times along the way, although Peoria seemed about the end of the road for that particular day. 

As they’d witnessed in Pontiac, Peoria proved to be mostly a ghost town, bar a few stragglers. The few remaining inhabitants of Peoria had mostly congregated in a roadside diner; morose, dour people, heads hanging low over their food and their drinks. The patrons couldn’t have numbered more than twelve at best, yet the diner seemed densely populated to Jimmy right then.

He made sure that both Amelia and Claire were settled at a window table, before he asked what they wanted. Claire seemed intent on ice cream and milkshakes, only being convinced into eating a hamburger first by an amused Amelia. Amelia then decided to have the same as her daughter. Jimmy nodded, before first heading for the bathroom, deeming it necessary to empty his bladder after a long run going without. On his way back from the bathroom, he stopped by the main counter, attention suddenly riveted by the news playing quietly on the TV screen suspended from the ceiling.

He watched similar waves of storms lashing across various vistas of the United States, some familiar, some not, as the muted hum of a reporter’s voice waffled on about almost apocalyptical conditions. He blinked, wondering what the hell had happened to the world in the space of a few scant weeks, thoughts shifting towards Sam and Dean Winchester again unwittingly. Jimmy couldn’t help but wonder as to whether they knew anything about it. For all he knew, the brothers he’d met personally only briefly, were caught in the same dire straits as he was. A new idea started forming in his mind at that, soon de-railed by a voice nearby.

“The weather’s getting worse, ain’t it?” the guy, clearly the owner of the establishment, said. “Been on the cards for a few weeks.” 

Jimmy judged by the man’s accent that he wasn’t a native of Peoria, nor even Illinois born. He was more southern, broader vowelled and almost lazy in his speech, tones friendly and homely somehow. Jimmy almost recognised the accent, but the region escaped him momentarily.

“It has,” Jimmy replied, with a brief nod. “It‘s the same where I came from.” 

“That right? Where you from? Pegged you as an outsider as soon as you and your pretty ladies walked in,” the owner said, as he pointed over to Amelia and Claire.

“My wife and daughter,” Jimmy explained, proudly. “And we’re from Pontiac.” 

The guy nodded, before he said - “Where you headed? Not much around these parts, any more.” 

“Where is everyone?” Jimmy asked, ignoring the first question for the time being, as he had no real answer to that, even for himself. 

“No one knows,” the guy said. “Most upped and disappeared overnight, left no trace or messages as to where they were headed. The rest have just gone, disappeared in mysterious circumstances. Some say dead, some say kidnapped. Who knows for sure? It‘s weird, alright.” 

Jimmy didn’t like to ask why the people in the diner were left behind when most others had gone, disappeared without a trace. He suddenly remembered, as a kid, being fascinated by re-runs of The Twilight Zone, eyes glued to the flickering black and white images that seemed strangely ancient, yet now, he felt as though he’d stepped onto that very TV show. Either that, or he’d stepped into the series of books his daughter had gone crazy for, all written by Carver Edlund, entitled “Supernatural.” Jimmy wondered if Claire ever knew that the guys she’d met only briefly, Sam and Dean, were the very guys in the books she obsessed over. Again, his thoughts shifted to Sam and Dean, just as the owner asked another question.

“Where you headed anyway?” the guy asked again, with an encouraging smile. 

“South,” Jimmy replied, absently, even though he still didn’t know where they were going.

“Warmer climes, huh? Florida? Miss’ippi?” the owner asked, and Jimmy realized then just what accent the guy had.

The man was an uprooted Mississippi native. 

“Perhaps,” Jimmy replied, eyes drifting once more to the TV screen.

The images hadn’t changed; instead, the view had shifted to Texas, where a tornado was ripping through ranches and making short work of wooden outhouses, and picket fences alike. For a brief moment, Jimmy worried about the animals, before his attention shifted once more back to the grinning owner.

“Do you have any cheeseburgers on the menu? I have a real craving for one,” Jimmy asked, hopefully.

“Trimmings?” the guy asked.

“All that you have,” Jimmy replied, before making an order for Amelia and Claire.

“Comin’ right up,” the man replied, before turning away to poke his head through to the kitchens.

Jimmy turned away, himself, guessing that the conversation had now reached its end, and returned to sit with Amelia and Claire. Amelia looked up and smiled at Jimmy, who responded in kind. Jimmy sat in silence for a while, as Amelia chatted to Claire across the table. Jimmy was only half listening to their conversation, lost in thoughts of two brothers who hunted the supernatural as their way of life, eyes tracking the rain outside as it seemed hell-bent on hammering itself into the parking lot. He looked up only when their orders arrived, steaming hot plates filled with diner goodies filling the air with fragrant aromas. 

Claire leant forward and stole one of Jimmy’s fries from his plate, giggling when he made a mock show of slapping the back of her hand lightly. She popped the thick and fluffy strip of potato into her mouth, chewing rapidly when the fry proved to be too hot for her mouth.

“Serves you right,” Jimmy smiled, as he repeated his daughter’s mistake, blowing out rapidly in shock at his own mouthful of too hot potato.

Amelia wisely didn’t say anything, merely watched her wounded family as they struggled with burnt tongues and too hot meals. She waited until her own burger was cool enough before lifting it to her mouth and chewing slowly, long fingers curling around the soft, fluffy white bun, as seeds dropped down upon her plate in scattergun bursts. Jimmy cast a glance at her, eyes sliding towards the rain still sheeting down and for one brief, yet momentous instant, he thought he saw that same winged figure he’d spotted back in Pontiac, large, ominous, wings somehow defying both gravity and the rain as the figure stared directly in at them. Although other people were ranged against the windows, dotted here and there in odd fragments of life, the figure outside was only paying peculiar, vested interest in the Novak family. 

Jimmy blinked at the sudden flare of bright, white on white light and the figure was gone, as though it had never even been there. Jimmy's food felt too dry in his mouth then, despite the cavalcade of pickles and sauces liberally oozing from between the beef patties and bun halves and he struggled to swallow his most current mouthful. He turned back when he heard Claire’s voice addressing him directly. 

“Daddy? Where are we going?” she asked, bright green eyes curiously staring at him, as she tucked one long strand of her blonde hair behind one ear. 

“Hmmm? Oh, do you remember Sam and Dean Winchester? The brothers who helped us out a couple years ago? We’re going to find them,” Jimmy said, deciding upon the spot that that was what he wanted to do. 

“You still have their phone number?” Amelia asked, curiously, as though she were double checking. 

Jimmy nodded, and pulled his phone from the pocket of his trench coat, that still smelled of angels, bright rills of ozone and the spicy underlay of heady, musky chocolate. It was the first time that the man noticed the smell of the angel, as though Castiel had left a lingering reminder of his presence for Jimmy to find. Jimmy doubted that Castiel would be so sentimental; it was more of a human trait to do something like that, to offer a small piece of comfort to another in the form of their own personal smell.

He put his thoughts aside, and pulled up the contacts list on his phone, glad that Castiel had deigned to leave him with his own personal phone while he was in Heaven. It seemed odd to Jimmy that Castiel had even bothered, but he guessed that Castiel wanted to appear more human, and to be better able to keep in contact with Dean, when necessary. Jimmy couldn’t remember why he’d needed a phone; that particular memory was hazy to his mind‘s eye, yet he had the fleeting thought it was something to do with sigils and ribs, which made no sense to him. 

He found that Dean’s number was top of the list, followed by Sam’s number. Jimmy guessed why Dean was first; Castiel felt more affinity for the elder Winchester than he ever had for Sam. The respect had been there from the start for Dean, yet for Sam, the fleeting emotions of growing respect were slowly born out of distrust and the orders to smite the evil demon blood from the younger Winchester’s body. He remembered the coldness of Uriel, of Castiel’s gradual dislike for the other angel, even though Castiel himself didn’t recognise the emotion, not being built for it.

He thought all of this, remembered it all as he waited for Dean to pick up. There was only a few rings, before the gruff, suspicious voice of Dean answered.

“Cas? You’re back?” Dean asked, roughly, sounding pleased beneath the gruffness.

“Hey, Dean. It’s not Castiel, it’s Jimmy,” Jimmy replied, a little sheepishly. “I’m sorry to bother you - “

“Jimmy? As in Cas’ vessel Jimmy?” Dean asked, in surprise, interrupting Jimmy's explanation mid-flow. “How the hell did you get Cas’ phone?”

“It was in his pocket. My pocket,” Jimmy corrected himself, with a sigh.

Even though Castiel had been gone a couple of weeks, it still felt weird to Jimmy to call his clothes his own again. 

“Yeah? Are you okay? Nothing’s wrong, is it?” Dean asked, and there was the rub in the question, that worry for others that Dean tried so hard to hide from the world.

Jimmy smiled at that, but didn’t call the other man out on it. Instead, he replied to Dean’s question. 

“I’m fine. Listen, I’ve got Amelia and Claire with me. I think we need your help. Where are you?” Jimmy asked, softly.

“Bobby Singer’s place. You remember Bobby? No, perhaps you don't,” Dean muttered, blowing out a breath of hot air. “We’re in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, at the Singer Salvage Yard. You got a piece of paper there?”

Jimmy did vaguely remember Bobby, through fleeting glimpses of the bearded man that Castiel had allowed him to see, although he had no clue as to where the man lived. 

“Hang on, I have a napkin,” Jimmy replied, pulling the napkin closer to his body and gesturing for Amelia to hand him a pen.

Claire had a pen, when Amelia didn’t, placing it in her father’s hand with a small smile. Her green eyes were fixed upon Jimmy, watching him as he frowned in concentration, carefully scribing the address Dean recited to him on the other end of the phone in careful lettering upon the napkin. 

“What is all this about, Jim? Why d’you need our help?” Dean asked, once Jimmy had recited the address back without mistake. 

“I’ll ... explain more when we get to you. Is the weather bad where you are?” Jimmy asked, hesitantly.

“Yeah. This isn’t anything to do with you is it?” Dean asked. “How much trouble are you in?”

“In all honesty? I don’t know. I know it was bad enough for Castiel to warn me about it in a dream,” Jimmy said. “I’ll tell you more when we get to you. Just be ready for the worst.”

“Okay,” Dean said, gruffly. “Dealing with the worst is what we’re good at.” 

“I know. It’s why I called you,” Jimmy replied, with a soft smile, even though he knew Dean couldn’t see it.

Dean gave a humourless laugh at that, before he said - “Where are you?”

“Peoria, Illinois,” Jimmy replied. “We should be with you by the end of the week.” 

“Fine. We’ll be ready, dude. See you when you get here. Just look after yourselves, okay?” Dean replied, as Sam’s voice filtered through the phone in the background.

It sounded as though he was asking Dean who was on the phone, but Dean didn’t immediately answer his brother. 

“Yep, I’ll do my best. See you in a few days,” Jimmy replied, absently, turning his gaze to Amelia‘s next to him.

She was watching him avidly, and he smiled at her. He waited for Dean to disconnect, before he hung up himself, and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“We’re going to South Dakota,” he announced, with resolution. “Dean and Sam will take it from there.”

Amelia nodded, accepting the location with a look of relief. It seemed as though a weight had been taken from her shoulders, now that they had a final destination and a promise of help. She, too, remembered Sam and Dean and how they’d helped her. Her one fleeting memory of Sam in particular, was when he’d exorcised a demon from her body, mouth smeared with the remains of the demon blood he’d sucked back from a freshly cut throat. The thought of that sight alone still made Amelia shudder, even though he’d in effect helped her, saved her. It didn’t seem natural for anyone to drink blood, and to seemingly enjoy it, get off on it the way Sam had. She remembered Dean a little more fondly, as a brave man who did all he could to protect others, often putting them before he did even himself. He was selfless to a fault. 

A loud peal of thunder from outside drowned out further conversation for a couple of minutes, reverberations rattling against the window panes, as the rain lashed the streets with more vigour. Lightning crackled through the sky, hitting the building across the street in a shower of sparks and flying timber. The rain, however, drowned the resultant fires, but their collective attentions were diverted elsewhere. The lightning, when it hit the building across the street, took the electricity with it, shorting out the cables that spanned the street on either side of the road.

The diner was plunged into darkness and a few startled gasps and screams ricocheted through the room, including from Amelia and Claire. It took a few seconds for the back-up generators to kick in, powering up the emergency lighting in a blinking, cold blue wash of light. That light turned every patron’s face into a sickly pale mask of itself, staring eyes and skin with a ghastly pallor. 

Jimmy felt the brief brush of warm wings against his shoulder, feathers caressing his cheek gently and the gentle wash of Castiel‘s presence, before an ominous voice called across the now too-silent diner. 

“Where are you? I know you’re here,” the voice hissed. “I’m coming for you, you and others like you. Two of you. Angel’s vessels. I can sense you, but cannot see you. Show yourselves, vessels.”

The last word died out on a sibilant hiss, far extended into the cold blue flickering light of the emergency back-up lighting. In the background, they could distinctly hear the faint hum of the generator, whining into the night and the rain, as a movement from nearby caught Jimmy’s attention. For one brief instant he thought he saw the shadow of Castiel’s grace shimmering towards and around him, before he felt a force against his shoulder, pushing him up out of his seat. 

Castiel’s voice whispered through Jimmy’s mind, whispering - Go, Jimmy, go. Take your family outside and run. It’s not safe for you. Go. Now. 

Jimmy didn’t need a second bidding. He stumbled to his feet and ushered Amelia and Claire from their seats. He pushed his finger against his lips, indicating the need for silence. Amelia and Claire, though distinctly puzzled, nodded and followed him from the diner’s flickering dreariness, out into the rain outside. Jimmy felt the presence of Castiel recede from him, as though the angel had been protecting him and his family, shielding them from view and from harm. Even though he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, he knew it was best that they didn’t remain in the diner for much longer. Whoever had been speaking inside that dimly lit building seemed as though they were specifically looking for him, and others like him.

It was only when they reached the relative safety of their vehicle that Amelia began asking the inevitable, and well-deserved questions.

“Who was that?” she asked, staring at Jimmy with wide blue eyes, as Jimmy pulled out of their parking space slowly. 

“I don’t know who that was,” Jimmy replied, grimly. “I know it wasn’t anyone good.”

“Well, whoever it was said something about angel vessels, Jimmy,” Amelia remarked, quietly, turning scared eyes onto her husband.

“I know,” Jimmy replied, grimly, mouth set into a firm, angry line. “Let’s hope that Castiel makes good on his word and protects us all.”

Amelia cast a glance behind her towards Claire automatically and was about to speak when Jimmy raised his hand sharply so that she would keep her silence. He nodded, confirming her suspicions, that whoever or whatever that was in the diner would be after Claire too. She’d housed Castiel for the briefest of times a few years back in their shared history, something that Amelia hadn’t forgotten, even though she’d been possessed by a demon for part of the time. Claire had shone as bright as Jimmy had when Castiel was inside him, grace leaking from her and shining around her fair-haired head like a halo. An angel was invisible to most, but quite plainly visible to a demon. 

Amelia nodded to Jimmy to tell him that she understood and kept silent. Her gaze darted from Jimmy to the road ahead, still awash in puddles ever deepening by the persistent and perpetual rain. Thunder still growled outside, as chain lightening arced and shimmered across the lowering clouds.

“Are we gonna stop tonight? I’m tired,” Claire piped up from the back, yawning loudly to prove a point.

Despite the stress of the day and the tension that still hung thick in the car‘s interior, Amelia still had to smile as she turned to face her daughter.

“Of course we are. We’re going to look for a place now,” she said, to which Jimmy nodded silently.

His gaze scanned the wet roads ahead, as they travelled down the road a little further. They remained silent, Jimmy scanning the buildings they passed, Amelia chewing her lower lip as she silently thought while Claire dozed fitfully in the back. Eventually they came to a motel by the side of the road, parking outside and running to the safety of the interior.

It was warm and dry in there, silent and devoid of life. The effect was quite forbidding and unwelcoming, almost forcing Amelia to drag them from the place through sheer nervousness. It was only for the fact that Claire looked ready to drop that she even agreed to stay, watching as Jimmy slipped around the counter and plucked a set of keys from the board hammered to the wall. Amelia was glad that Jimmy studiously avoided the keys labelled with the number 13, instead choosing the other set, labelled with the number 17. 

Jimmy gave the keys to Amelia and sent her upstairs to the appropriate room, while he dragged a few of the cases they needed from the car outside. Amelia, once installed in the room, settled Claire down on one of the beds, but remained unable to settle herself. Instead, she paced the room, until Jimmy returned with the cases. They changed into dry clothing, before settling down into bed for the night. 

*~*~* 

Amelia was still partially awake, caught halfway between true sleep where dreams lurked on the inside of her mind’s eye, and wakefulness, where the tensions of the day waited for her. Her eyes drooped further downwards into sleep, when she suddenly snapped into full wakefulness again, body rigid with fear. She thought she’d heard movement somewhere in the room with them. She could feel the long, hot line of Jimmy lying beside her, one arm draped protectively around her slim waist as Jimmy quietly snored. 

She lifted her head slightly, expecting to see Claire padding towards the bathroom for a late night bathroom break. No movement from the young girl was anywhere to be seen. Her familiar form was not in the vicinity of the bathroom, much to Amelia’s dismay. As if sensing his wife’s growing tension by the way her body stiffened, muscles locking into taut spasms of jumping energy, Jimmy stirred, snuffling sleepily as he roused.

“Wha - ?” Jimmy managed, before Amelia silenced him with a swift and gentle hand over his mouth.

Jimmy quietened down immediately, laying kisses upon Amelia’s palm, soft lips tickling the sensitive skin there. She had to smile at that, but didn’t respond as she normally would have done. Sensing that something really was wrong, Jimmy sat up, to stare down at his taut wife, and that was when Claire screamed. Jimmy exploded from the bed, lunging immediately, blindly in his daughter’s direction, colliding with something solid and immovable. Feathers, coarse and a little smelly, nothing like Castiel’s beautifully preened and aromatic plumage shifted against his face as a growl rocked around him.

Jimmy groped for the familiar form of his daughter in the darkness, hoping to get to her, before this thing, whatever it was, hurt Claire. He caught the edge of one kicking girlish leg around the side of his head, before he latched his arms about her waist and yanked. Claire came free from whatever was holding her, before Castiel’s voice slammed trough Jimmy’s mind. 

Get down. Now. Close your eyes, the angel demanded.

Jimmy winced against the loudness and the urgency of his angel’s tone, before he repeated Castiel’s words to Amelia and Claire. Jimmy then hit the floor, shielding Claire’s eyes with his body, ducking his head as a bright white light flooded the room. A bellow, that was familiar to Castiel, filled the room, all white noise and squealing high-pitched radio static, before an ominous growl that was a noise that Castiel could never make soon rent the air. It was evil, promising bad things slithering to hurt someone in the night, and Jimmy cringed away from it. Castiel’s Grace grew brighter still, and Claire cried against Jimmy’s chest.

“Make it stop,” she pleaded.

“It’s alright, honey. It’s Castiel,” Jimmy shushed her, soothingly. “He’s trying to help us.”

That at least seemed to soothe Claire, somewhat, although her tears continued to stain Jimmy’s t shirt, turning the grey material dark with dampness. Amelia’s hand snaked over the edge of the bed, snagging in first Claire’s hair, and then Jimmy’s, fingers desperately seeking her family. Jimmy reached up and snagged his wife’s hand blindly, as Castiel’s Grace finally receded from the room, taking whatever had grabbed Claire with him.

All was silent in the room, almost deafeningly so after the shrill, piercing sounds of Castiel in the room, and Jimmy wondered, for a moment if he’d gone deaf. It was only for the fact that he could still hear Claire crying against his chest that he knew he hadn’t lost his hearing, after all. Then he heard Amelia’s voice, as clear as he heard her on any other given day, and it went a long way to soothing his fears about premature deafness. He questioned himself as to why he was even worrying. Why would Castiel harm his own vessel, rendering him and his family deaf when he was trying to protect them?

“Jimmy?” Amelia asked, when she didn’t immediately getting an answer.

“Pardon? What did you say? I didn’t get that,” Jimmy admitted, finally snapping back into full focus again.

He’d rather let Amelia think he was a little deafened by the noise than not paying due care and attention, although both circumstances were forgivable under the circumstances. 

“I said, what was that?” Amelia asked, fear permeating her tones and turning her voice almost child-like, definitely younger than her years. “Did you see what it was?”

“I only recognised Castiel,” Jimmy replied, with a sigh. “I didn’t see what the other thing was at all.” 

“What was that awful noise?” Amelia asked, fearfully. “It sounded like a radio playing up.”

It was only then that Jimmy realized that Amelia had never heard nor seen Castiel in his true form before, and he lifted his eyes from the top of Claire’s head to meet his wife’s gaze.

“Yeah, that was Castiel. He was protecting us,” he replied, with a brave attempt at a smile. “That light you saw? Also Castiel.”

“So that’s what Castiel looks like when he’s not inside you?” Claire asked, as she placed one hand over Jimmy’s heart.

Jimmy and Amelia exchanged a glance over the top of her head, both knowing that the young girl obviously didn’t remember her five minutes of celestial fame. 

“Yes, honey, that’s what he’s like when he’s not in me,” Jimmy said, gently.

“He’s beautiful,” Claire said, before she yawned loudly.

“That he is,” Jimmy said, with a smile at Amelia. “He’s certainly braver than me.” 

“I don’t know,” Amelia objected immediately. “You haven’t been doing too badly yourself the past couple days.” 

Jimmy smiled at that, before leaning up to kiss his wife gently. Then he patted Claire on the back and said - “Now, young lady, get yourself to bed. We’re moving on tomorrow, so you need all the rest you can get.”

Claire nodded, mouth wide in an uncovered yawn, before she wriggled away from her father’s embrace and returned to her bed, none the worse for wear after all that she’d just been through. Jimmy watched her settle down, before he climbed into his own bed, next to Amelia. He kissed her again, and cradled her in his arms. 

Even though Amelia fell asleep quickly, Jimmy found it hard to fall into a dreamless state himself quite so easily. Instead, he watched the window, the streaming of the rain coiling over the glass pane and the flickers of lightning that danced across the night sky. He watched as a few scant headlights arced across the window, before the soft motions and sounds of the rain slowly soothed him into sleep.

*~*~*~* 

It was morning when he awoke again, and Amelia was already up and showered. She was shepherding Claire into getting herself ready, handing her a different set of clothing and her toothbrush, chasing her giggling into the bathroom. Jimmy watched them, smiling as he shielded his gaze from the light outside. It was only when Amelia turned back to face him that he realized the rain had stopped, and the sun had taken its place instead, hanging as a bright, bright penny in the sky, peeping through the clouds.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Amelia greeted him, watching as he got to his feet and strode towards the window. “As soon as Claire’s finished, you’re getting in that shower, okay?”

“Yes, Mom,” Jimmy replied, making Amelia laugh behind him. “Have you noticed something? No more rain.” 

“Yeah, it’s weird, isn’t it?” Amelia asked, as she moved across the room to stand beside him.

They peered out as one, at the rain soaked vistas outside. Despite the hazy sun struggling to peek through the intermittent gaps in the clouds, the parking lot outside wasn’t improved by much. The light, soft and lemon yellow, did little to push away the grimness of the scene, as though not even the sun could push away the shadows of their lives right then. Jimmy suppressed a shudder and turned away. 

He sighed and rifled through his clothing, picking out a soft blue shirt and a pair of black jeans to wear for the day. He felt Amelia’s arms circle his waist, as she laid her cheek against his back. He laid one hand over hers, eyes closing as he revelled in the touch of Amelia, before he turned slightly to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Ugh,” Claire said, as she padded from the bathroom, clean and her hair still wet from where she’d washed it.

She was wearing her favourite t shirt, replete with running horses above the hem and a pair of faded, scuffed jeans that were no doubt comfortable.

“You say that now, but you wait til you get to our age,” Jimmy laughed at her. 

Claire screwed up her pretty little face, but said nothing to that. Amelia was still smiling when Jimmy headed off to the bathroom himself, both thinking that laughter really was the best medicine fro the tension they had all been going through. 

*~*~*~*

That day passed quietly enough and the Novak family almost believed they were on a family holiday, instead of traversing the country at the behest of an angel. None of them knew still what they were running from, exactly; all they knew was that whatever it was, it still was after them. 

Soon all the towns looked the same, increasingly more and more empty, streets littered with abandoned garbage, scattered newspapers and used food wrappers shoring up against the sidewalks and blowing asunder. They stopped where they could, often entering motels that were left wide open and unattended. They had the pick of the best rooms, and more than once Jimmy wondered when the electricity would cut out, if no one was around to man the power stations. The water kept up for a few days, but even that, would no doubt peter out or so Jimmy assumed.

The grocery stores were in the same state, left wide open for the pickings, and the Novak family picked upon the shelves, sometimes leaving money out of sheer guilt, other times just taking the goods and leaving. Sometimes they saw other people, although not very often. These were glimpsed only at a distance, going through the same motions as they were. 

The sun held out for the majority of the next two days, before the rain started again, washing over a mostly empty world, left desolate and garbage strewn. Claire hadn’t said much for a couple days, large green eyes watchful and scared. Whenever she did speak, she often asked where the other survivors were staying, to which neither Jimmy nor Amelia had any answer. 

Amelia and Jimmy spoke little themselves, taking turns at driving and filling up when they could. Some gas stations’ pumps had long since given out, but at others, they managed to draw up enough fuel to transport them to the next garage that worked. 

Two days after the incident in their motel room, and the thing came back. Jimmy had been expecting it, not lulled into complacency by the apparent peace left behind by an unpopulated world. The silence had been too creepy, the scenery too desolate without the usual influx and surge of humanity around them. Even Castiel had been quiet, not speaking to Jimmy directly, yet Jimmy still knew the angel was there, watching over them, making sure of their continued safety. Jimmy wondered yet again what was so important in Heaven that was keeping Castiel from them, from him, yet was glad for the continued absence anyway. At least that absence afforded him the extra time to look after his family and to protect them himself, like a good husband and father should, until they reached their final destination.

The attack, when it happened, came without warning. Jimmy had stopped the car on the outskirts of some nondescript and deserted town, and the family had gotten out to enable Claire to go for a pee behind a tree. Jimmy and Amelia kept watch, in case of robbers, marauders, passing ferocious bears, anything that could harm their child. No one said anything about the thing that was chasing them, yet they all thought it. The winged being was never far from their minds.

As it was, all three of them were out of the car and by the side of the road when the thing attacked. It came from the sky, plummeting from the rain clouds with ease and with speed, feet and hands colliding with the roof of the station wagon and crumpling the metal like paper. Amelia turned and screamed at the sight of it.

It was corporeal, formed out of seeming flesh and blood, great feathered wings arching back from a well formed frame. To say the thing was a monster would have been a great injustice. In short, the thing was beautiful; not unlike a typical idea of an angel made corporeal, yet somehow off. There was something malformed about it somehow, yet neither Jimmy nor Amelia could quite pinpoint why. It was almost as though their minds, their gazes skimmed off and away from what was so inherently wrong with the apparent angel, other than the fact that it was hell-bent on trying to damage their car. The angel who was not an angel ripped the roof from the station wagon pulling the seats from the vehicle while the car alarm blared in noisy cadences. 

Both Jimmy and Amelia ducked into the trees, seeking out Claire and hushing her before she could make a sound. They turned as one towards the tree-line, peering out through striated trunks to check on the progress of the being outside. It shrieked, deprived of its prey once again, melodious cries sounding like beautiful choirs and a horrifyingly hoarse cadence underpinning the melody. Its wings flapped and it threw the station wagon bodily to the side of the road, overturning the vehicle and smashing it beyond repair. The family hidden amongst the trees ducked away and the expected whoomph and crumple of flames ripped through the air as the gas tank exploded.

“Well, that makes that car unusable,” Amelia said, face bland and unreadable.

Jimmy snorted out a laugh, before he tapped his wife and daughter silently on the shoulder. He gestured for them to follow him, before they wended their way through the trees, slowly, placing their feet carefully upon the mulch beneath their feet. Even so, their feet made noises through the passing, but not enough over the sounds of the thunder to give their location away to the being still hovering over the road. 

Eventually, the winged being flew away, crying out as though calling out for something else. This led Jimmy to wonder if there was possibly more of them, scanning the skies for them and others like them. He thought perhaps it a little arrogant to assume there was only one winged being such as the one that had destroyed their car. He wondered again if the unprecedented attack was something to do with him and Claire being eligible angel’s vessels. The thing outside had certainly looked like an angel, which led Jimmy to wonder what they would need with humans. 

He put such thoughts of his mind as soon as they broke cover, slipping carefully into town to search for another car. They soon found one, unlocked, with the keys still hidden under the sun visor. The gas tank was a quarter full, and Jimmy vowed to fill her up as soon as they found a gas station. They coasted quietly down the road, before stopping outside a local, and abandoned convenience store, where they stocked up on the essentials, a change of clothes for each of them, and toiletries to last them a few days longer. Claire was hungry, so they grabbed packaged foods from the shelves, dispersing through the store to optimise the swiftness of their shopping experience.

*~*~*

Amelia was the first to spot the hobo, standing outside the store they were raiding. The hobo was standing in the street, staring in at them with large eyes. Amelia, thinking that the man was desperate for food, more so than them, decided to take some out to him.

Upon closer examination, Amelia discovered that the man outside wasn’t quite the hobo he’d appeared at a distance. Instead, his clothes, although decidedly dirty and more than a little creased and scuffed, were expensively tailored. She wondered if perhaps it wasn’t one of the finest Ted Baker could produce. Upon his wrist glinted a Rolex watch, and it looked, to Amelia’s untrained eye, to be real. She knew that there was little chance of a hobo owning both a Ted Baker suit, a Rolex watch and a pair of D & G shoes, unless he’d managed to find and rob a rich person, who happened to be the right body size as he was. 

She wondered if perhaps he just wasn’t in the same situation as they were, although not quite so clean. 

“Do you want something? There’s plenty of food, inside,” Amelia said, with an encouraging smile at the dishevelled man. 

“You’re not one,” the man replied, seemingly apropos to nothing.

“One of what?” Amelia asked, not understanding.

“One of them. Your husband and daughter are, but you’re not,” the man replied, as though he was making genuine sense.

“Alrighty then. I’m going to pretend I know what you’re talking about and just give you this pasta. Is that alright?” Amelia asked, as she tried to press the packaged pasta into the man’s hand. “All you need to do is build a fire and boil water over it - “

The man interrupted before she even got any further than that.

“You're like me,” he said, with a fascinated smile. 

Amelia sighed, eyes downcast momentarily before she impaled the stranger with a glance.

“Are you gonna tell me just what in Hell you’re talking about, or am I just gonna have to walk away?” she asked, wearily. “Because seriously? My week has been a tad stressful and I can’t deal with any more.” 

“You’re been possessed by a demon, haven’t you?” the man asked, suddenly.

Amelia stared at him in shock, surprised that a complete stranger would even know that. 

“Once, yes,” she admitted, slowly. “How would you even know something like that? I don’t even know you.” 

“I don’t suppose you would. You see, I was possessed by a demon once,” the man said, musingly, blue eyes squinting very far off into the distance. “The highest demon you could possibly imagine. Some would say the devil himself, in fact. I made a deal with the devil because I had nothing else left. I had no other choice left to me.” 

“Lucifer? You had Lucifer riding you?” Amelia asked, in shock, involuntarily stepping away from the man as though he were diseased. 

The man noticed and smiled a sad smile at her, as though the gesture had been expected but still struck a nerve. It was one thing for her husband to be possessed by an angel but to be willingly possessed by Lucifer was another tying. At least, Amelia thought to herself, that when she’d been possessed, the actual possession had been forced upon her, not deliberately invited or agreed upon. 

“I did. That doesn’t make me a bad person, you know. I had a family once. They were taken from me and where was God then? At least with Lucifer I had a chance to get retribution,” he said. “I didn’t though. He promised that much, but he had an agenda all his own, it seemed.” 

“Well, he is Lucifer,” Amelia said, with a shrug. “I am sorry about your family, though.”

She cast a glance in at her own family, those she would protect with her own life if necessary. In a way, she could sympathize with the man in front of her, although she knew she wouldn’t go as far as consorting with the devil to get absolution for past sins committed. 

The man didn’t reply and when she glanced at him, it seemed as though he couldn’t speak, probably still thinking about the family lost to him. She attempted a supportive smile, but didn’t try and touch him. She still wasn’t sure of the man’s motives, or what he was even doing there. 

“I don’t mean to be mean or anything but why are you here?” she asked, hesitantly. “Most other people have gone.”

“Some are hiding, some have been taken away, some have been killed. The rest, like your family, are being hunted. I’m one of the ones they don’t want. And so are you,” the man replied. 

“You mentioned that once. Why? And who or what are they that you are talking of?” she asked, thinking of the winged being that seemed intent on stalking them wherever they went.

“I don’t know what they call themselves, but I do know they’re caught halfway between being an angel and a demon. I think it is more apt to say they’re half and half - half angel, half demon. All I know is that they want to gain entrance to Heaven and it seems the only way for them to do that is get the vessels,” the man replied. “The angel vessels, not the demon ones, obviously. We’re not pure enough. It‘s something to do with the blood, the essence that‘s inside both us and them.” 

“Them being the angel vessels?” Amelia asked, finding all of this too much to take in all at once. 

“Exactly. Your husband and daughter were chosen by the angels, the true angels, because of the purity of their blood, their soul and their faith,” the man replied, with a sad smile. “You and I may have the faith, but the soul and the blood are not pure enough for angels. That makes us unworthy of those things that are chasing you.”

“So, what happens? To the angel vessels, I mean?” Amelia asked. “Do you know?”

“I know something, although I haven’t seen it myself. It seems those things, those winged monstrosities, are draining the vessels of their purity, their strength and taking it into themselves, so they can storm Heaven. They want to go back to Heaven, that home which they feel has long since been deprived of them,” the man replied.

Amelia stared at the man in shock, the enormity of the situation finally sinking in for her. She hadn’t realized just how bad things were for them.

“How do you know all of this?” she asked.

“Seriously? I hear things. Seems like whoever resurrected me after Lucifer ditched out of me left me with the ability to hear what the demons are saying. That includes the things that are after your husband and child, by the way, They’re half demon, like I said,” he replied, grimly.

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t know you from Adam,” she said to him. “We don’t owe each other anything.”

The man laughed at that, before he said - “Oddly appropriate phrasing about Adam, considering the circumstances. I’m trying to help you, to right the wrongs of my past. And besides, those things out there? They want me to find people like your family, angel vessels. I agreed to help them, but I’m warning everyone that I can. I don’t agree with what those things are doing; it‘s unnatural, it‘s wrong. You should go now. It‘s not safe here.” 

“A thank you doesn’t seem to quite cover it, but thanks anyway,” Amelia said. “I don’t even know what your name is.”

“Nick. My name is Nick,” the man replied, with a faint smile. “And you’re Amelia.”

Amelia nodded, attention already diverted between her family inside the store and checking the skies above. Jimmy was already looking towards the plate glass windows at the front of the store, forehead creased with worry when he saw Nick standing beside his wife. Jimmy started picking his way through the store, as the man outside bade his farewell to the woman. He had gone by the time Jimmy attained the fresh air of outside.

“Who was that? What did he want?” Jimmy asked, uncertain as to whether he should be swinging for the guy’s head or not.

“That’s Nick, former vessel to Lucifer apparently,” Amelia said, dryly. “Relax, he was here to help us. I will tell you what he said, but we really need to leave by yesterday.” 

Jimmy nodded, preoccupied by scanning the street for danger to properly respond. He waited outside while Amelia corralled Claire and they piled their goods into the back of their stolen car. Ten minutes after the disappearance of Nick, the Novaks were on their way once more, heading through streets that looked almost war-torn, as Amelia filled Jimmy in on all the vessel of Lucifer had imparted to her. 

*~*~* 

That night, Jimmy couldn’t get to sleep easily. He stared unblinking into the darkened motel room, listening to the sounds of his family drawing in dreaming breaths around him. The momentary peace was soothing, yet Jimmy knew it wouldn’t last, knew it with every certainty that he had. He couldn’t get everything that Amelia had him, direct from Nick, out of his head. To him, it seemed impossible, but no more impossible than the things he’d had to face while possessed by Castiel. 

When Amelia finally rolled away, turning her back unwittingly upon him in sleep, Jimmy slid from beneath the blankets, to pad outside in the fresh air. It was chill in the night, with a few odd, fat droplets of rain splattering against the sidewalk and Jimmy’s upturned face. He thought then of Claire, of how she had been as a little girl, barely a year old and refusing to eat her baby food. It was only when Jimmy had sneaked a finger full of his chocolate mousse into her mouth did she show more interest in eating, turning quiet green eyes up to his as though begging for more. Of course, Jimmy had relented, sharing the rest of the little pot of mousse with her, wiping all traces of the goody from her chubby little cheeks before Amelia witnessed what he had done. He’d hastily hidden the rest of the uneaten baby food before his wife came in, and truthfully told her that Claire had eaten successfully.

Now he wondered what would become of them all, if the thing, the winged being really did catch them and drain them of power the way Nick had suggested. Despite the fact that Claire was long since past the age of being spoon fed, she still liked her chocolate mousse, just like her father. Jimmy knew that he wouldn’t survive if his daughter was taken from him, or his wife. Everything he did was for them, and he refused to let some freak of nature rip them away and to drain the life force from his body, from Claire‘s. 

He turned when he felt a presence at his shoulder, half expecting it to be Amelia. She wasn’t there, but Jimmy felt the brief press of Castiel’s unseen presence against his back. The angel was silent, invisible, but markedly there, watching over him like he always did. This time, unlike before, his presence was tangible, more distinctly felt other than the brief brush of an alien mind against his own. 

“Cas,” Jimmy said, finally calling the angel by his shortened name. “When the hell were you gonna tell me what’s going on? I know what‘s happening, you know. Those things want to drain us, both Claire and me.”

“It was too soon to tell you,” the angel decreed, and his voice inside Jimmy’s mind sounded weary. “I was planning on telling you sooner than this, however, but things elsewhere have been rough. More is at stake in the world, than just you and your family. I am sorry. I can tell you that the beast that is hunting you and your daughter is known as a peri.” 

“Peri? What in God’s name is a peri?” Jimmy asked, without thinking. “I’ve never even heard of them before.”

“They are abominations in the eyes of God and the angels. You might say they are between angels and insects, just like your new friend Nick intimated, “ Castiel explained, patiently. “I am sorry, Jimmy, but I need to go now. My time here is short, but I will return, to explain more. You need to know how to defend yourselves against the threat of the peri. This will help with the ritual you will need to perform.” 

Jimmy didn’t get the chance to question the angel further, as he felt something pressed into his hands. He looked down and saw one of the feathers from the peri’s own wing laying curled and surprisingly fluffy against his palm. Despite its coiled fragility, the feather was deceptively heavy, solid to the touch, as though it were made from a dense material, perhaps stone or quartz. It shimmered in his hand, dark and brooding, brown barred with silver-shot black, midnight upon earth. 

Jimmy glanced up to say something to the angel, but Castiel had already gone. All Jimmy could do was stand alone outside the motel room, as the rain grew heavier, flattening his hair against his head. Eventually he turned and returned to the relative dryness of the motel room, rubbing his hair dry with a spare towel before returning to bed. Despite the fact that he now had more questions than answers still, Jimmy found it easier to get to sleep than he had previously. He was still clutching the singular peri feather as he drifted off into a blank slate of sleep. 

*~*~*

“What’s that?” Amelia asked, when Jimmy awoke the next morning.

Because of his lateness in getting to sleep, he was late in getting up, also. Amelia, however, was not concerned about his unusual and sudden penchant for sleeping in. He was usually an early riser, getting up before herself and even Claire, herself an early riser usually. Amelia then reminded herself that the current situation they were in was hardly normal, at least for them.

Jimmy blinked the sleep from his eyes and followed the direction of his wife’s gaze. The feather that Castiel had handed to him during the night was laying upon the bedside cabinet, innocuous, unnervingly innocent and yet somehow vibrant, as though imbued with residual life from its previous owner. Briefly, Jimmy explained what the angel had imparted to him, to which Amelia could only nod.

“Perhaps Sam and Dean will be able to tell us more about what we need to do with this feather,” she suggested.

“Or Bobby will,” Jimmy added, memory throwing up a random thought of the elder man poring over stacks of ancient books., a memory that hadn’t been squashed by Castiel’s possession. 

Amelia could only hum in agreement, as she had never met the elder hunter, and Sam and Dean she’d only met briefly. She ushered Jimmy into the bathroom, before helping Claire to pack away the random scattered goods that littered the motel room. 

*~*~*

They were on their way by early morning, snacking on packaged biscuits and potato chips and it was almost like they were on vacation again. The ever present thought of the peri plucking the car from the road while they were still in it was never far from their minds however, and Jimmy hoped that the change of vehicle would ensure their safety for a little while longer.

By that evening they’d reached the Singer Salvage Yard, and no sighting had been made of the peri. The familiar shape of the Winchester’s Impala sat outside the house, looking dwarfed by the piles of junked cars surrounding it. Unlike the junkers, the Impala looked pristine and new, despite surpassing its 40th birthday some time back. Jimmy parked behind it, killing the engine before slowly climbing out from behind the wheel. He stretched, popping abused muscles too used to being held in one position, as both Amelia and Claire climbed out to stand beside him.

They turned as one when the door to the house cracked open, and a familiar figure, to Jimmy, emerged. The figure was tall, with short dark hair and intense green eyes, a hesitant smile on his face and a beer held in one hand, half empty.

“Hey, Dean,” Jimmy said, as he walked forward to greet the elder Winchester.

“Hey, Jimmy. Glad you got here, dude,” Dean said, as he reached out to hesitantly pull the other man into a rough, one armed hug.

Jimmy almost pulled away in surprise, not used to being actively hugged by anyone except his wife in recent times, yet he soon relented, slapping Dean firmly on the back with one hand. Dean smiled at Claire and Amelia, before he scanned the skies automatically, and gesturing for the Novak family to enter. As he did so, he explained that Castiel had told him to expect them that day, that the angel had seemed to know just when Jimmy and his family would show. Jimmy tried not to express his surprise at that; after all, the angel seemed to know a lot of things that were surprising, including things that hadn't even happened yet.

Bobby was in the kitchen, cooking up some burgers for their dinner, and he gave the newly arrived trio a gruff greeting. Amelia and Claire looked to Jimmy, surprised when he acted as though it was normal for Bobby to be so gruff. Amelia did catch Bobby staring at Claire, as though assessing her for wounds, to which the mother was immediately grateful. It seemed that for all his gruffness, Bobby seemed to care about those in need, apparent from just one searching glance towards her daughter. 

Feet pounded down from upstairs, heavy boots striking carpeted stairs, before Sam emerged into the kitchen, hair still slightly damp from the shower and smelling of apple scented shampoo. Unlike Dean, he made no attempt to give Jimmy a half-hug; instead, he merely nodded at the newly arrived family and sat down. 

Bobby soon served up the food, over which Jimmy filled in the three hunters on what had been happening since their phone call of a few days prior to their arrival. Amelia filled in the parts that Jimmy couldn’t, of what Nick had imparted to her, while Claire listened, chewing silently at a burger clutched between adolescent hands. 

Neither Sam nor Dean had heard of a peri before, and even Bobby seemed baffled by the name. Sam looked ready to rise from the table before even finishing his meal, attention already invested upon his laptop and the promise of Google, but one scowl from Bobby made the taller Winchester settle back into his seat. Claire hid a smile behind her burger, obviously amused by the fatherly influence Bobby had over Sam and Dean both, to which she received a quick wink from Bobby himself.

“You can check it after dinner, ya idjit,” Bobby said to Sam. “No sense starving yourself or giving yourself indigestion for the sake of finding out something.”

“Bobby’s right,” Dean agreed, cheeks filled with burger patty and seeded bun. 

Sam grunted and settled back down at the table, picking moodily at his salad. Dean rolled his eyes at Claire who smiled at the elder Winchester, green eyes glittering over her burger. The conversation shifted after that, to what had been happening in Sioux Falls for the past few weeks. 

It seemed as though Dean and Sam had only reached Bobby’s house an hour before Jimmy had actually called Dean. Bobby had recalled them to help him to investigate various strange disappearances in the area and the ensuing bad weather that stretched across the entirety of the country. They explained to the listening Jimmy, that prior to their return to Sioux Falls, Sam and Dean had been unaware of anything except the bad weather, too caught up in the loop of hunting ghosts and various beasties over the preceding weeks. Up until Jimmy’s appearance with his family, they hadn’t even known a thing about peris. 

From there, the conversation shifted again to possible ways of repelling both angels, demons and potential hybrids of both. After many ideas were thrown from one to the other, they finally agreed to at least try the traditional methods of banishing sigils for the time being. To the seasoned hunters at the table, there seemed to be no other way to proceed with any degree of success.

*~*~*

Claire and Amelia were already settled in Bobby’s bedroom upstairs when Jimmy made his way to see the elder hunter himself later that night. Bobby was stationed at his large desk, over-loaded with piles of books threatening to spill from all sides. Bobby was resting his forehead against one palm, eyes drooping with sleepiness as he tried to continue reading. He looked up, instantly alert when he heard movement, relaxing only slightly when he saw the familiar form of Jimmy nearby.

“Hey, Jim,” Bobby said, looking a little disconcerted still over calling him Jimmy instead of Castiel.

Jimmy reminded himself yet again that Bobby didn’t know him as Jimmy, and never had, in fact. All he saw when he was met with Jimmy’s face was the angel behind the man. He wasn’t sure how Bobby felt about him, whether he thought that Jimmy was a strange usurper in his own body, but the fact that he was willing to help proved otherwise. 

“Hey, Bobby. You got anything yet?” Jimmy asked, without much hope of a positive answer. 

“A whole bunch of nothing so far, kid,” Bobby sighed, leaning back in creaking chair with a sigh. “For all the mythology on demons and angels, I can’t find hardly anything about peris.”

He lifted his hat far enough from his head to rub his hand through his hair, before settling the cap back upon his head once more. Jimmy noted how tired the other man looked, and plucked a random book from the pile surrounding Bobby, settling down upon the worn couch nearby. 

“Tell me what I should be looking for and I can help,” Jimmy offered, as he scratched his chin, thoughtfully.

He flipped open the book upon his lap studiously, flipping through pages of ancient photos before Bobby could speak.

“Look for anything and everything you can find. I don’t care if all you find is the peri’s eating habits, at least it’ll be better than what we have now,” Bobby groused, making Jimmy smile. 

“Not such a bad idea. Perhaps we could poison the food source or something,” Jimmy muttered, making Bobby smile a little.

“Might not be such a bad idea,” he murmured back.

Neither of them brought up the thought inherent to both of them that a peri’s food source included snacking on the power of an angel’s vessel. Neither wanted to risk either Jimmy nor Claire, not even for the sake of peri entrapment. Without further word, Jimmy settled back into the soft confines of the couch and began his search.

*~*~* 

Jimmy was dreaming again, walking through Heavenly fields filled with sweet smelling lavender. Castiel was standing amidst nodding purple flower-heads, smiling up at the sun, as it flooded across the angel‘s form. Jimmy found it a little disconcerting that this time the angel had chosen to look like him, exact details down to the last stray whisker on his cheek to the slightly mussed appearance of his hair. Jimmy knew, however, that he himself did not wear his clothes in quite such a wonky fashion, and that was all Castiel’s doing. 

He approached, knowing that there was nothing to fear from Castiel and finally, he stopped in front of the angel. He waited patiently for him to speak. It didn’t take long for the angel to open his eyes and impale the human with familiar intense blue eyes, and a gentle smile on the curve of his mouth.

“Jimmy,” Castiel said, by way of greeting. “I think it is time to tell you how to defeat your enemy.” 

Jimmy nodded, and didn’t add the addendum that an explanation was a long time coming. 

“I will come to you when I am able. My current tasks, as decreed by Heaven, aren’t going very well, despite our current peaceful surroundings,” Castiel said. “That, you do not need to worry about, however. You need to focus on keeping your family safe.”

Jimmy nodded, but didn’t press the angel for more information about Castiel’s current situation. The fact that Castiel had skirted information about his duties once again, indicated that he didn’t want to talk about them. Instead, Jimmy asked a question. 

“When will you be with me?” he asked.

“Tomorrow,” Castiel promised. “But in case the peri gets to you before I can, you need to know how to defend yourself. Do you still have the feather I gave to you?” 

“Yes. Dean Winchester has it,” Jimmy told him.

Castiel nodded in satisfaction, as though Jimmy had done something that the angel approved of. Jimmy knew that Dean was trustworthy, loyal to a fault to those he loved, of which included Sam and Castiel both. 

“You need to treat that peri as you would a demon or an angel. A banishing spell would work for a while, as would Sam’s knife. As a last resort, you must burn that feather, mixed with the blood of the righteous man, a demon and an angel’s vessel,” the angel said. “I will come to you when I am able.” 

Jimmy nodded, and listened as Castiel explained further about the ritual they would need to perform but didn’t get the chance to respond to the angel, further. He awoke, before he got the chance to speak, eyes snapping open into full wakefulness once more. He was awake in Bobby’s front room, fire crackling nearby and Bobby asleep at his desk. The elder hunter stirred when Jimmy moved, easing cramps from his back and tensed legs, hefting the heavy book from his lap to ease the pain and discomfort in his thighs. 

“I know how to defeat the peri,” Jimmy said. 

*~*~* 

That day was spent in preparing the house for potential attack, with both Claire and Amelia pitching in to help. They listened closely to Dean, to Sam and to Bobby as they instructed them in how to draw the perfect angelic and demonic banishing sigils. Jimmy, already vaguely familiar with the angelic sigils from second hand information remembered from Castiel, listened intently to refresh his memory and to learn about the demonic sigils that he didn’t know. 

In time, he helped, daubing sigils in strategic places around the house. Despite the severity of the situation, Claire began to enjoy herself, always the fanatic for finger painting and artwork of any kind. It seemed almost fun to her, and her sigils were almost as neat as Sam’s were. Dean had rolled his eyes at that, saying that she was miniature nerd, even as he gave her a grin while doing so. Claire grinned back but said nothing. She didn’t seem to mind being compared to Sam, despite the fact that Dean himself was friendlier with her than Sam ever was. 

Later that afternoon and Amelia was cooking in the kitchen, with Bobby sticking his head in every so often to make sure she was alright. Dean suspected that it was more for the fact that the elder hunter was making sure she wasn't burning the house down rather than the genuine fact that he wanted to know how she was getting along. Amelia, herself, didn’t mind; in fact she seemed quite amused by the elder hunter, irascible on the surface yet obviously quite kindly beneath. 

Later that afternoon, and Jimmy heard Sam and Dean talking. They didn’t seem to know that he was even there, listening quietly, keeping perfectly still so he didn’t announce himself straight away. Sam seemed to be arguing and Jimmy found that resonated somewhere deep inside himself, as though it was something that Castiel had witnessed quite a lot and was quite irritated with. Some of the angel’s irritation had rubbed off on the vessel, for Jimmy found himself a little angry with Sam’s attitude. Dean, as usual, seemed to be the voice of reason, at least when it came to other people’s safety. 

“I don’t see why we have to put ourselves on the line for this,” Sam was saying. “We’re doing nothing but babysitting a whole damn family and for what? This should be Castiel’s job. Where the hell is he?”

“We’ve been through this, Sammy,” Dean barked back, sounding angry yet incredibly weary with the whole conversation. “There must be a reason why Cas can’t help. They wouldn’t be here, if they didn’t need us.” 

The elder brother’s tone seemed to imply that he’d been repeating the same things to Sam for the past few days, and that he wasn’t going to give up. 

“They need our help,” Dean was continuing. “Remember the days when we used to help people? Save them from things? This is kinda like that but on a much larger scale.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Sam groused.

“Dude, we survived the Apocalypse. We damn near averted it, even though it doesn’t look like it out there, right now. We couldn’t have done that without Castiel’s help. He died for us twice, Sammy. The least we can do is help out the vessel he rode in on,” Dean shot back. “Listen, Jimmy’s a good man, and his kid’s an innocent. You wouldn’t want a kid’s blood on your hands would you? I know I wouldn’t.” 

Sam didn’t reply; instead he sighed gustily and Jimmy saw the brief flash of movement, as though Sam was running his hand through his hair. 

“There used to be a time when you didn’t hesitate to help someone in need. Well, they need you, they need both of us. I’m freaking seeing this out to the end, because it’s what I do. You should too,” Dean said, and it sounded to Jimmy as though the elder Winchester was pacing angrily.

“You’re right. I know you are, but I still don’t feel happy about it,” Sam said. 

“They’re not excess baggage, Sam,” Dean said, to his brother’s unspoken words. “They’re a family. Remember that? What that means? The things that you do for the ones you love, the ones that matter. You should know better than anyone what that means. We should protect them.”

“I know,” Sam said. “It’s just this ritual thing, How do we even know this will work? I mean, Jimmy woke up knowing exactly what to do. How can we trust a dream?” 

“Oh yeah, and like you haven’t dreamt things that have come true, Sammy?” Dean pointed out. “Remember how I rarely questioned you when it happened? Oh, and by the way, don’t think I haven’t forgotten your dismissal of heading to Vegas. We could have earned a lot of money in the casinos.”

Jimmy didn’t understand what that meant, but it seemed to hit a nerve with Sam. He sighed, paced, and ran endless hands through his hair.

Finally he said - “Fine. We’re doing this. But if all goes ass up, then on your head be it.”

“Always,” Dean said, wearily.

Jimmy heard movement from upstairs, Claire coming out of the bathroom. He padded upstairs, before she saw him lurking and drew attention to him eavesdropping by an innocent question. The rest of Sam and Dean’s conversation was lost to the ether behind him. 

*~*~* 

Dean watched the rain sheeting against the window, a pensive expression upon his face, as in the background, Amelia and Claire watched Vampire Diaries. Neither looked particularly interested in whatever Stefan and Elena were getting up to that week, yet had found noting else of note on the TV to occupy them. Finally, the noises changed and Star Trek replaced the tweenie vampire shenanigans. 

Dean was half tempted to watch Captain Kirk explore endless planets with Spock and Dr McCoy by his side, yet knew that he couldn‘t leave his post as look-out. At any time, the peri could attack, and Dean knew he couldn’t let the beast that Jimmy had described take either Jimmy himself or Claire. That led Dean to wondering whether he would be eligible for a peri’s very special attentions, considering the fact that he was the Archangel Michael’s vessel. 

His gaze shifted, tracking through the piles of cars outside, thoughts skimming over unwanted thoughts of having the power drained from him, that power that marked him out as being special, an archangel’s personal meat-suit. If the peri seemed to want Jimmy and Claire so badly as to track them from Pontiac to Sioux Falls, then at what cost would it try and secure Dean? The fact that it hadn’t made a move on him so far led Dean to wonder if the peri didn’t yet have the power required to take him on. After all, an archangel was that much more powerful than any other angel in Heaven and subsequently, their vessels were stronger, more resilient and durable.

Dean sighed, as he scrubbed one hand over his eyes wearily, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose in equal weariness. To distract himself from his own, heavy train of thoughts, he decided to make himself a sandwich. The hunter kept a weather eye out of the window as he pulled a package of beef and some tomatoes from Bobby’s fridge. He was halfway through demolishing the thick sandwich he’d put together when a loud crash emanated from the front of the house. 

The sandwich was reluctantly tossed aside, as Dean bolted from the room, wiping remnants of mustard from his fingers onto his shirt as he went. Outside, looking in through the front window, the peri’s face glared. Sam was already stationed by the window, demon killing dagger firmly gripped in one hand. Dean grabbed his knife, shouting for Jimmy to get his ass downstairs as quickly as possible.

Steady thumps behind the hunter denoted the arrival of Jimmy, as frightened questions were directed their way by Amelia and Claire from in front of the TV. Dean ignored the questions for now, knowing they had no time to answer.

“Later,” he barked to them, as he ushered Jimmy into the main room. “Just stay where you are. Sammy.”

Sam nodded, peeling away from the door as the face of the peri disappeared outside. The sounds of its beating wings could plainly be heard from inside, the weight of its body battering against the door and the walls of Bobby’s property. The peri’s melodic voice screamed for Jimmy and for Claire, demanding the immediate relinquishing of the angelic vessels. The peri couldn’t get inside because of the angel and demon warding sigils daubed against the interior and exterior of the house, preventing it from entering under its own power. By the way that the peri was pounding its body against the fragile doors and windows, no one inside the house were hopeful that the sigils would keep it out for long. 

Bobby was already lighting the fire for the ritual they needed to perform, solemn face drawn and angry. He turned, grabbed the bowl that he used for spell-work, before he looked at Dean expectantly. As the righteous man, he was one of the three required to give blood and Dean extended his arm without question or argument. Bobby took the knife the hunter gave to him, and sliced a neat cut into the flesh of Dean’s forearm. Quickly he squeezed the blood into the bottom of the bowl, thick and oozing in the light, dark and somehow ominous against the tranquil wood of the bowl.

Sam was next, being the second of the required triumvirate, possessing demon tainted blood. Bobby sliced into the younger Winchester’s arm cleanly, letting his blood mix with Dean’s. Lastly, came Jimmy, putting himself forward in the place of Claire so that she wouldn’t have to go through the ordeal or even witness the majority of it. His blood was the blood of an angel’s. It dripped down to mix with that of Dean’s and Sam’s, before Bobby took the bowl away and dropped the feather into the dark red mixture. The feather sizzled upon contact with the bodily fluid, as outside the peri shrieked. 

Dean watched through the window as the demon-angel hybrid pitched to the soaked ground, wings soon becoming matted with mud, as the being thrashed in its attempts to attain the freedom of flight once more. It finally struggled into the air, turning its angry gaze upon the house once more, before it collided with the door in a shattering blow. The door splintered, lock almost giving out, one fracture almost bisecting the sigil daubed upon the back of the wooden barrier. Luckily the sigil remained unbroken, not permitting the peri entrance. 

“Stay here,” Dean ordered, gesturing for both Bobby and Jimmy to do as he’d said. 

He gestured for Sam to follow him, knives at the ready as they slipped out the back door before either Jimmy or Bobby could stop them. That wasn't of the plan, and Bobby grumbled and groused to himself as he worked, calling the brothers every name under the sun and even some that Jimmy had never heard of before.

Jimmy sat back, watching out the window as the brothers attempted to circle behind the peri, knives glinting in the meagre light as rain pounded against the humans’ heads. The peri turned, caught sight of them and crashed towards them, ragged wings awkward as Bobby began chanting over the feather and blood mix diligently. He was careful to pronounce the words imparted by Castiel, careful not to stumble because their very lives depended upon him now.

Outside, Dean was bowled to the ground, body weighed down by the sheer weight of the peri. Sam attempted to save his brother, slashing his knife close to the peri’s body, attempting to plunge the blade deep into the being’s chest. He was battered away by the sweep of the peri’s wing, crashing into a pile of junked cars to lay still at one trashed wheel. Jimmy, watching from the windows, gave a wordless cry and plunged out into the rain and the storm, facing the peri fearlessly, trying to draw its attentions away from the Winchester brothers.

“You don’t want them, you bitch,” he yelled, storm tossed winds whipping at his clothing and attempting to steal his breath from his body by sheer force alone. “It’s me, you want. It’s me you’ve been hunting all this time. Take me.”

The peri screeched and lunged for Jimmy, who remained steadfast in its swooping path. Jimmy remained upright, and unforgiving as Castiel struck, slamming into his body with the force of an angry angel. Jimmy could feel the power surrounding him, pounding into him rather than trickling, lighting up the air around him as Castiel consumed him once more with the familiarity of angelic Grace. The peri struck, but Castiel didn’t bow. Instead, he grabbed the peri by the throat, more powerful than the half angelic being, forcing it to the ground with an angry growl.

“You do not deserve to attain Heaven,” he snarled into the peri’s snarling face. “You were banished. You fell. You are dead to me, less than me. This man is not yours to take; he is mine. His daughter is not for you. She is also mine.”

Castiel’s arm arched upwards, angelic blade glittering in the light, shining with inner fire as he plunged it down into the heart of the peri. The peri screamed, blowing out every window in every junked car surrounding them, setting off a few car alarms in the process, the ones that still worked. Castiel pressed his hands against the peri’s forehead, burning away what was left of its grace and banishing it to the Hell it deserved. It dissolved, ashes exploding outwards and mixing with the rain and the mud around them. He stood, and watched as Dean struggled to his feet, Sam an already forbidding figure behind him. 

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, staring at Dean but the question was meant for both brothers.

Sam gave a noncommittal grunt while Dean nodded.

“Good as can be expected when I’ve been near crushed by a giant freaking bird,” Dean followed his nod up with. 

“That was very foolhardy, Dean,” Castiel admonished, gruffly, even though there was no heat of anger in his eyes. “You know you should have stayed inside.”

Castiel knew why Dean had rushed out there, ready to sacrifice himself for the sake of Jimmy, for Claire. It was what Dean always did, and Sam ... Sam went along for the ride as he always did. 

“How the hell could I sit back with my thumb up my ass when people are in danger?” Dean asked, more angrily than Castiel. “Do you really expect me to do that?”

“Dean,” Sam said, gently, laying one hand upon his brother’s shoulder, physically reeling his brother in from his anger. 

Dean looked ready to hit Sam, one fist raised to lash out, to hurt, yet Sam didn’t back down. He was ready to take whatever punishment Dean was ready to deal out. As always, he was ready to be Dean’s punching bag, so long as Dean didn’t get angry at the wrong person. Dean dropped his balled fist, nodding at Sam to let him know he was done. He still turned his angry gaze upon Castiel, however.

“Where the hell were you? I’ve been trying to call your ass down from Heaven ever since Jimmy got in touch with me,” he said, stalking towards the angel.

Castiel did not flinch, nor did he back down when Dean invaded his personal space. Instead he stared at Dean with wounded eyes, mouth screwed tight into an angry pout as he searched for the right words.

“I was helping, Dean,” Castiel finally said. “There were peris all over the Earth. Did you think Jimmy and Claire are the only angelic vessels in existence? Why did you think you could look upon Zachariah or Raphael before they died? Why do you think Michael needed you? They all took vessels. We all need vessels. I was helping to protect them all, all the vessels across the Earth. What did you think I was doing while up in Heaven? I made sure Jimmy was safe. I ensured that much until he could reach you.”

He didn’t say the words aloud, but the words - I trusted you - hung implicitly between them.. Dean glared at Castiel but said noting, Instead he turned, away, and caught Sam’s disapproving glare instead. It seemed to Dean as though even Sam was on Castiel‘s side, that he thought Dean was being an immovable douche, as usual. 

“Your first priority was to Jimmy,” Dean hissed at Castiel.

“And so it is,” Castiel replied, calmly. “The peri you saw me kill was not the first that tried to get to Jimmy. That was actually the fourth.” 

Dean blinked at Castiel in shocked surprise.

“You killed the others?” Sam asked, calmly.

“Yes,” Castiel snapped, forcefully. “So for all your words about how I am not protecting Jimmy were all for nothing, Dean. I protected him before I protected the others.”

He impaled Dean with an intensely angry look and the hunter at least gave a half apology, although he was still angry. The hunter did not say anything more; all he could do was watch as Castiel gave them a curt nod and turned away. He disappeared with a flap of wings and a shift of air, that was strangely sweet-smelling, gone before it had properly arrived.

Dean and Sam were left alone in the rain and the wind, the sounds of the storm battering down upon their already soaked heads. It was Sam who made the first move, leading Dean inside, where they dressed themselves in dry, clean clothes once more. Amelia came to see them, already knowing that her husband was gone again, sad eyes trying to smile at the Winchesters and Bobby. Bobby gruffly offered them the run of the house for the night, to which they gratefully accepted.

*~*~*~* 

A week later and Amelia and Claire had returned to Pontiac without Jimmy, as he was still with Castiel. Despite staying with Bobby for a few days, who seemed glad of the extra company, doting upon Claire like she was his own daughter, Amelia felt it was time to return to something a little more normal for the depleted Novak family. Bobby, reluctant to let them go, asked Sam and Dean to at least accompany them back home, to ensure their continued safety. 

Dean, although gruff, complied, no more wanting to see the couple come to harm than Bobby or Sam did. In fact, he found himself quite enjoying the company of Claire and Amelia, finding the little girl in particular a source of fun and laughter. More than once he smiled upon her, seeing something of her dad in her eyes and the way that she smiled. 

On their journey, they discovered more people were returning to their lifestyles, in much the same way as Amelia and Claire were. It seemed,, from the scant knowledge that Dean and Sam were able to pick up from asking various passers-by, that the majority of the population had been on the move, going into hiding in the mountains, with family, even abroad, wherever they could go. Still others remained unaccounted for, presumed dead in the influx of the peri invasion. 

Dean knew as well as Sam did that the clean up operation afterwards would be horrendous and it would take a lot for American society alone to build itself back up to how it used to be. He was only glad that he wouldn’t be a part of the majority of it, busy as he would be with Sam weeding out the back roads monsters, the same as he always did. He had no doubt that Castiel would also help them, sending them out on various angelic missions and even that, Dean was looking forward to.

Eventually they reached Pontiac, which looked relatively normal still, compared with some of the towns they’d had to roll through. Only the floods remained to tell of the things that had happened there, excess water that pooled in the streets. Although some properties retained flood damage, the Novak household remained relatively untouched, to Amelia’s relief. As she led Claire up the familiar garden path, Dean watched them go, refusing to leave until he knew they were safe inside. Even when they’d turned, waved and closed the door behind them, he watched, to ensure that there were no hidden terrors waiting for them both inside and out. Sam sat beside him, staring out of the window, watching too. Finally, he turned away and smiled at Dean.

“I guess it’s over, huh?” he asked.

“For them it is,” Dean said, indicating the Novaks. “For us, it never is.” 

Sam hummed out his agreement, but otherwise remained silent. He remained wordlessly staring out of the window, as Dean set the Impala in motion again, the familiar burble of the classic car’s engine filling the air behind them. They turned around and headed back for Bobby’s, to familiarity in the hunter’s world and on to their next job, wherever that may be on the road ahead.

~~ the end ~~


End file.
